


What Other People Dream For You

by Emmalyne (orphan_account)



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:51:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3502364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Emmalyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short scene where Ronan and Kavinsky have a farewell of sorts in a dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Other People Dream For You

> "Reality's what other people dream for you" - The Dream Thieves

"Hey, Lynch," the voice said. It was not the girl. It was most definitely not the girl. For one, the voice was undeniably masculine. And it was murmured right into Ronan's ear, so close that he could feel the warm breath of whoever was speaking.

For a second, his heart leapt. But then he turned around.

"Miss me, Princess?" Everything in his dreams felt real to Ronan, but he felt this boy's presence here in a way that was even more solid. _Kavinsky._ Not a memory of Kavinsky. It _was_ Kavinsky, the same way it had been him at the Fourth of July.

"Fucker," Ronan greeted him. His heart pounded so loud K could probably hear it. Kavinsky looked just like he had in life: a devil in the costume of an angel; an amalgam of all things good and evil, real and fake. Kavinsky seemed to have guessed that it hadn't been him Ronan was anticipating when he turned around. He screwed up his face in a parody of sympathy.

"Don't you ever get tired of having Trash Boy turn you down?" he asked. "Or is that what gets you off?"

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," Ronan said. "How are you even here?"

"Came to say goodbye," Kavinsky said, voice flat.

"You can do that?" Ronan asked, hoping his voice didn't betray the desperation he felt.  _Please, please, please,_ he thought. The dream with his father had felt so real. He didn't want to question that, couldn't question that.

"Hey man, have a little faith," Kavinsky said. He tugged on his lower lip with his teeth, grinning. He was jumpy. His whole body was tense with coiled energy, like a wild cat.

"Why did you do it?" Ronan asked. If there was any part of him that felt that he possibly knew the answer to this question, it kept its silence.

"Why did I come back? I missed you, Lynch." Kavinsky assumed a pouty expression that should have looked more appropriate on a young girl's face than on Henrietta's most renowned bad boy, but it managed to make him look even more coolly apathetic.

"Why did you kill yourself?" Ronan wasn't going to put up with digressions. He needed answers. He needed something that would end the nausea in his stomach every time he tried to sleep.

Kavinsky made a whoo shape with his mouth. "Straight to the point, babe! Though, you were always better with cars than with words," he taunted. Nothing fazed him.

"Was it because of what I said?" Ronan asked.

"No room for modesty," Kavinsky said. “Everything is about you?”

"Was it?" Ronan demanded. He glared into Kavinsky's black eyes. Kavinsky glared back for a second, then balled his hands into fists.

"You fucking used me, man," he said. "Couldn't wait to get back to sucking off your precious Dick, but wait, you were a stupid fuck and trashed his fucking car. No, actually, turns out it's the charity case that lights up your candle. Yeah. I figured it out. Never took you to be a fucking Daddy Warbucks."

"What?"

"You would have chosen anyone over me. But you and me..." Kavinsky said slowly, as if Ronan were stupid, "...we're gods. We're not like everyone else. We're real."

"The fuck are you talking about?" Ronan took a step backwards, away from this mess of a boy. Kavinsky was gesticulating wildly as he spoke.

"Everything is malleable. Reality is a canvas. You paint all the pictures on it you want, but it's still flat. I was _the only one_...and then you show up," Kavinsky closed his eyes, sucking in breath through his gritted teeth. "We could have had the whole fucking world," he said. He reached for the straps of Ronan's tank top and gripped them so tightly his knuckles went white. His lip twitched. He moved his fingers lightly behind Ronan's ear, as if he would have been brushing hair out of his eyes. "And you fucked it up," he finished.

"You didn't care about me," Ronan said. This wasn't fair. He hadn't known what he was playing with. He would have said anything to save Matthew that night.

"You pity him because his father hits him. You want to save him." Kavinsky sniffed. "My father hit me. My father put a shotgun to my forehead and told me to get out of his house before he used it. And my mom? She'd fucked every guy in Jersey. It's not a fun soundtrack for a little boy to fall asleep to."

"You didn't love me," Ronan spat.

"Love?" Kavinsky laughed. "Don't you think love is a kind of naive concept? I respected you. I needed you." He exhaled, and Ronan felt his breath in his own mouth, which was hanging open in shock. Ronan closed his eyes, opened them. He looked right into Kavinsky's, because maybe Kavinsky didn't know about Ronan's policy of honesty, and this would help to communicate that he sincerely meant his next words.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he did mean it. Ronan never made apologies that weren't absolutely necessary.

Kavinsky looked confused. It was clear that he had expected this fight to escalate. But Ronan was done fighting with him.

"I didn't know," Ronan explained. Something was becoming very clear to him, like an image loading on a computer screen, becoming less and less pixelated. The boy in front of him had the same gift and curse as Ronan did, only he had been further down the path it naturally led than Gansey had allowed Ronan to go. What was morality when nothing seemed real?

"Well, now you do," Kavinsky said, and for possibly the only time Ronan had ever witnessed, there was no sarcasm at all in his voice. It was just raw. Ronan's eyes stung. He put his lips on K's, and for a second he thought he tasted the bitterness of reality on the other boy's skin, and it made sense that everything else was the dream.


End file.
